


A Tale of Two Namesakes

by phyrestorm



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Anti-Mage - Freeform, Cats, Cats being awesome, F/M, Future Fic, Ghosts, Kid Fic, Kids Being Awesome, Kids being cute, Kids being jerks, M/M, Mage Stuff, Mages, Old Friends, Overpowered Kids, Warrior's Death, cats being jerks, earth spirits, finnish gods, finnish kade, forest spirit, mountain spirit, parenting, swan of tuonela - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyrestorm/pseuds/phyrestorm
Summary: SSSS: The Next GenerationActually, it's mostly about the current generation so far, but some of them have kids.  Unusual, talented, highly problematic kids.I started writing this just for fun, quickly started taking it too seriously, got overwhelmed with planning, then stopped because it wasn't fun anymore.  At this point, I'm going to try to go back to just winging it, even if that means it doesn't have the structure of a proper novella.





	1. An End and Two Beginnings

YEAR 98

The nest that had plagued Dalsnes for decades was finally gone. The giant in the cave was dead, along with all the trolls and beasts who had nested beside it for so many years.

But the cost was high. Dalsnes Special Defense Team 1 was dead too. Fifty of Norway's finest, gone. 

The boy who had bathed the cave in cleansing fire had been the last. He'd turned, given his General a smile and a thumbs up where she lay, then fallen twenty feet off the giant's body onto snow-covered rocks and never moved again.

Two hours later, General Sigrun Madsen-Eide, lying atop the mass of quickly-freezing flesh, used her one remaining arm to pull the last of her four children to her breast.

"I always wanted a daughter," she murmured into the baby's still-wet, strawberry blonde hair. "You know what your name is, right?"

The baby screeched and headbutted Sigrun in the nose.

"That's my girl!" she chuckled. "I'm already proud, little Tuuri."

Sigrun curled her tall, lean body around the tiny baby, whispering to the little one as she fed.

"You'll like your dad. And your brothers! Gods, they're a pain in the ass! But they're good boys. They'll be coming to get you any minute now."

The baby gurgled and looked up at Sigrun with a question in her eyes.

"No, kid," Sigrun told her daughter as she felt the strength flow out of her. "I won't be coming with you."

She glanced at the stump of her left arm. The makeshift tourniquet was oozing slower now, dripping rather than spurting into the crimson pool on the dead giant's enormous flank. It was getting hard to talk. Hard to think. Hard to feel anything but the creeping cold...

The baby chomped her nipple with all her toothless strength, then giggled.

"Ow! Heh. You're a fighter. That's good. We'll see each other again one day. I promise."

Sigrun could hear shouts now. A rescue party, probably led by Mikkel and Tyr. 

She hoped they would understand. 

She kissed her daughter and let her eyes drift shut for just a moment...

...and opened them again to a roaring cheer from a million grinning warriors and every tankard of ale in Valhalla raised in welcome.

 

"Sigrun," Lalli whispered against the frosted window.

Emil didn't hear him. He was too focused on trying not to barge into the room where Anna was giving birth.

It wasn't that Emil was upset about his youngest cousin getting knocked up at 14. Okay, not JUST that. He'd been plenty upset at first, but then the father had disappeared into the Navy and Anna had agreed to give the baby to Emil and his husband and pretend the whole awkward, messy thing never happened. In fact, it had been her idea. 

"Emil, you like kids, right? Well, I don't. You want mine? I think it's a girl."

"We'll name her Tuuri!" he'd blurted when he told Lalli the news. But Lalli had given him The Look and hadn't talked for the rest of the day, so apparently he didn't like that idea.

Anna screamed. 

Emil started to leap up--to do SOMETHING--but his lap was suddenly full of Lalli.

"No," his husband said, then stroked his hair and kissed him on the forehead. "Shush. Wait."

"But--!"

Lalli grabbed his shoulders and stared into his eyes as someone in the delivery room shouted, "It's crowning!"

Emil relaxed, then noticed the tear streaks on his husband's face.

"Oh, honey, what...?"

Lalli was off him and staring out the window again in a second.

Emil sighed, threw a nervous glance at the door to the delivery room, then carefully approached and rested his hand on his husband's shoulder.

"Lalli. We've talked about this. You can't freeze me out."

Lalli growled softly, then leaned into Emil's touch.

"What's going on, sweetheart? Come on, communicate. You can do it."

Lalli growled again, grabbed Emil's hand as if to fling it off, but clung to it instead.

"Sigrun."

"Wha-"

The unmistakable cry of a newborn erupted from the delivery room. Not a cute little whimper, not a sweet hello to the world, but a big, lusty yell that said IT'S COLD AND BRIGHT AND LOUD OUT HERE AND I HATE IT.

Emil and Lalli both spun around, then looked at each other, looked at the door, looked at each other again, and had just started forward when a grinning nurse banged out.

"Congratulations, gentlemen! It's a healthy, beautiful baby girl!"

Lalli looked at Emil one more time and smiled.

"Sigrun," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigrun Madsen-Eide  
> 58-98  
> Warrior, Hero, Legend


	2. A Complete Lack of Resemblance

YEAR 103

"Young lady, you stop that RIGHT NOW!"

Tuuri Madsen-Eide finished the last round of her chant, rocked back and forth one more time, and opened her eyes.

"Oh. Hiiiii, Uncle Reynir," she said, smiling her most charming smile.

"Don't give me that!" Reynir Arnason snapped. 

As a kind-hearted man who loved children and hated arguments, establishing authority over young, untrained mages was the hardest part of Reynir's job. And this kid promised to be a whole new level of difficult.

Norwegian mages were rare. One in three thousand, or so Reynir had read, and all the power that would have been distributed among dozens in each generation of Icelanders or Finns seemed to be concentrated in two or three.

"Let them go, Tuuri," Reynir sternly told the little girl. 

'Little' wasn't exactly the word, though. Reynir was pretty sure she was the biggest five-year-old he'd ever seen, and not because she was fat. A bit chubby, yes, but mostly just huge in general. If he hadn't known the child was five, he'd have taken her for a baby-faced ten. She had her mother's striking violet eyes, but in every other way, she was a dead ringer for Mikkel. It was an unfortunate look for a young girl and Reynir couldn't help feeling a twinge of pity for her.

Tuuri glared at him with the same irritated expression Reynir had received so many times from her mother.

"Why?"

"Because they don't like it, honey. They want to wake up."

"But... but sleeping is nice!" young Tuuri protested. "Fun dreams!"

Reynir stared into the small but piercing violet eyes, trying to send feelings of calm, of letting go. It was only when he heard Tuuri's cry of rage and his body collapsed to the floor that he realized the enormity of his miscalculation. This massive, unattractive girl wasn't just a bratty kid - she was the most powerful mage he'd ever met, and he'd pissed her off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone is mad:
> 
> 1\. Reynir isn't dead and Tuuri Madsen-Eide isn't a murderer. She's just a very strong-willed, very powerful, somewhat spoiled, five-year-old mage who's messing around with sleep spells.
> 
> 2\. I'm not being mean when I say young Tuuri is physically unattractive. It's just a fact. I'm really tired of EVERY story that includes a little girl talking about how pretty and/or cute she is, so this story is partly about a homely girl. She may or may not do a Bindi Irwin and grow up to be a hottie. That's not the point.


	3. A Challenger Appears

Reynir soared, warm sun on his back, delicious crisp clouds sprinkling his face, gazing down at the emerald green pastures of his home.

"Vovoff!"

Then he was on the ground, near the peak of a high, grassy cliff that dropped off to the crashing ocean, standing with one hand on his trusty fylgja's head.

"What is it, girl?"

The spirit dog yipped, licked his hand, and pointed with her snout toward a grassy hill a few dozen meters away, backlit by the sunset.

Reynir set out for where her gaze led.

The crest of the hill didn't look that far off, but it seemed to take hours before he was close to the top. As he climbed, the light got brighter, so he figured it must be sunrise instead of sunset. 

He passed a sleeping fox, curled up in a hollow. A few meters later, a badger blearily stumbled out from behind a rock, gave him a sniff, and ambled away. A few more steps and he tripped over a bright green snake the exact shade of the grass. It coiled up, tasted the air, and slithered off.

He was almost to the top of the hill now. Almost in sight of the sun. Somehow, it hadn't moved at all...

A lynx swatted him in the leg.

"Wake up, you dingbat."

Huh?

Another swat, with claws.

"Wake UP!"

Reynir slowly opened his eyes, then practically jumped out of his skin when he saw another pair of eyes looking down at him from three inches away.

"GAH! Ahahaha! Dammit, Lalli..."

Lalli sprang back and gave Reynir a reproachful look as Emil staggered into the room.

"Sorry!" the short, solidly-built blond panted. "We...got here...as fast as...we could..."

A furious yell brought Reynir's attention back to young Tuuri. The girl looked absolutely outraged. "NO!" she bellowed, stomping her foot. Then she clutched her head and burst into tears. "NO NO NOOO! OWW!! DADDYYYYYY!!!"

Reynir started to ask what was wrong, but then a wave of nausea hit him, quickly followed by what felt like a freezing knife through the center of his head. Across the room, Lalli grimaced and rubbed his eyes.

The pain intensified as Reynir heard small, running footsteps approaching.

"Here she comes," Emil muttered as he approached Tuuri. The girl gave one more screech, then fainted. Emil caught her smoothly and gently laid her on the floor.

Just when Reynir was sure he was about to throw up, the pain disappeared and his stomach righted itself. Seconds later, a tiny, laughing pixie of a girl dashed through the doorway, made a beeline for Lalli where he was crouched against the wall holding his head, tapped him on the knee, and chirped, "Found you, Dad!"

Grinning proudly, she trotted the few steps to Emil and rapped his shoulder. "Found you, Mom!"

Then she kicked the unconscious Tuuri Madsen-Eide in the shin and said, "Found you, ugly!"

She started to dash out the door again, giggling, but Emil gently caught her around the waist and brought her back. 

"Wait, Sigrun! We don't call people ugly. That's mean."

Then the blond seemed to notice Reynir for the first time.

"ACK! Sorry! Are you from the school? We just--"

He was interrupted by his squirming daughter.

"But she IS ugly!" little Sigrun protested, no longer smiling. "You didn't see what she DID!"

Still sitting against the wall, Lalli gave Reynir a small nod of greeting and prodded Emil with his foot.

"It's the sheepdog."

Emil glanced between the three of them and then something seemed to click in his mind.

"OH! Ragnar! It's great to see you again!"

He shook Reynir's hand while simultaneously pulling him to his feet.

"Uh, it's Reynir, actually..."

"Oh, right, sorry! Emil Vasterstrom, Cleanser Captain and Public Relations Officer! You may remember my husband, Lalli Hotakainen--"

"Mrrh."

"--and this is our daughter, Sigrun!"

Reynir, still recovering from the past few minutes, extended his hand to shake that of the child Emil was ushering toward him, then almost passed out again.

At first glance, little Sigrun was everything young Tuuri wasn't: Tiny, delicate, cheerful, and her short black hair framed a very pretty face. It was the child's eyes that were...wrong. If Tuuri's violet gaze was piercing, Sigrun's coal-black eyes were...empty. Hungry. All-devouring. He could feel his power, his concentration spiraling into them...

Reynir gave a start, blinked, and shook his head. What was wrong with him? A perfectly normal five-year-old was smiling up at him with unusually dark but perfectly normal brown eyes.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Sigrun. I'm Reynir Arnason."

"Pleaseda meetcha, sheepdog!" little Sigrun chirped, then giggled and skipped back to Lalli.

Emil rolled his eyes and apologized again. Reynir accepted good-naturedly and started to ask about Tuuri. He hadn't sensed that the girl was hurt, but--

That was when Reynir realized he couldn't sense a thing. Not the life force of those around him. Not the simple protective runes he always used while traveling. Not even the constant, invisible presence of his fylgja.

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugly is as ugly does. Good thing there are no truly ugly people here.


	4. A Traveling Party Forms

"My daughter is WHAT?"

Lalli restrained the urge to hiss at the massive man across the table. He'd always respected Mikkel, and he knew he must still be recovering from Tuuri's sleep spell, so he forced down his frustration at having to repeat himself and tried to ignore the unsettling emptiness where his mage senses should be.

After five years, he still wasn't used to this.

Even with his mage powers, Lalli would have found Mikkel intimidating. When they'd first met, the Dane had already been the largest human being Lalli had ever seen. Thirteen years later, he was so big he had to turn sideways to get through some of the doors in his own house. His legs were like mighty oaks, his torso a whole country forested by his belly-length grey/blond beard, and his enormous arms and hands could easily snap a scrawny mage in half before he could so much as begin a spell.

Emil broke the awkward silence by placing a coffee pot on the old wooden table in the kitchen of the ancient Madsen family farmhouse, pouring three cups, setting one in front of Lalli, and passing one across to Mikkel.

"She's not in danger," Emil assured the big Dane as he took a seat next to his husband. "She'll wake up in an hour or so. Sooner if we take Sigrun away."

Lalli unthinkingly expected to see Mikkel's luonto, the great bear, flinch at the sound of the name before he remembered. No luontos while Sigrun was just a few meters away.

It was so strange, seeing people in just their human bodies. Trying to understand them from their words and expressions, although he was fluent in three languages now.

Lalli glanced out the window to the courtyard where his daughter was happily laughing and shrieking, playing some kind of chasing game with a redheaded boy and three large dogs.

"Your daughter," he told the bear who was just a man right now, "is currently the fifth most powerful human mage alive."

He couldn't feel them now, but he'd memorized the list and doubted it had changed in the past few hours.

"The other four, in reverse order, are his boss's boss" -- He pointed at Reynir, who was hovering nervously near the door -- "the shaman of a village in Norway, an old woman in a country called Alaskers, and..."

He dipped his head and lowered his voice to a whisper, as if ashamed.

"...me."

He braced himself for the storm of "WTFs" and "YOU? HAHAHAs" and "Why didn't you TELL MEs."

Instead, there was silence, and then Emil embraced him.

"It's true! Probably," Reynir reported from the doorway. "As of a month ago, according to our records, the most powerful living mage in the known world was Bjork Ardadsdottir, age 93. Lalli and his cousin were next on the list."

More silence. 

"Um," Reynir added, "Sixteen of the fifty strongest mages to ever live have been related to Ensi Hotakainen, Ukko-Pekka Ilves, or both. So. Yeah." 

"Onni has passed?" Mikkel asked softly.

"No," Lalli mumbled against his husband's shoulder.

"Not exactly," Emil clarified as he held Lalli close.

Sad understanding came over the enormous man's shaggy face.

"I'm sorry."

"No!" Lalli said again.

"Not that either," Emil said. "It's...complicated."

Mikkel decided not to pry for now.

"So what does this mean for Tuuri?"

"It means she needs training," Reynir said, finally entering the room and seating himself on the small tip of Mikkel's bench that he wasn't occupying. "Immediately. For her own safety and that of everyone around her."

Mikkel regarded the redhead levelly. They exchanged letters every few months and Reynir's wife always included the Madsen-Eide family when she sent out Yule cards, but he hadn't actually seen the kid in years. The young man had certainly come up in the world. Assistant Head of the Academy. Mikkel wasn't all that impressed by the title, but he liked the genuine concern he showed for Tuuri. And, despite his lingering awkwardness, Reynir seemed to know what he was doing. The haircut and short beard were a nice touch too. Far more professional than that gigantic braid.

Mikkel took a swig of coffee, blotted the dribbles out of his beard, and had a good look at the pair across the table.

The years had been kind to Emil. He hadn't grown any taller, but most of his puppy fat had turned to muscle, and he moved with an agile confidence that immediately set him apart from the nervous, clumsy teenager Mikkel remembered. That golden hair he was so proud of was halfway down his back now, loosely braided like Reynir used to keep his.

As for Lalli, he looked exactly the same at 32 as he had at 19. 

Reynir was still talking.

"Tuuri is extremely talented, Mr. Madsen, and--"

"Madsen-Eide," Mikkel growled.

"Sorry. Mr. Madsen-Eide, your daughter is one in a hundred thousand. One in a million, if there ever were a million people alive at once. She could change the world one day. Actually, scratch that--She WILL change the world one day. The question is when, how, and whether she does it on purpose."

Mikkel was convinced. He stayed silent for another minute, though, just to see what his guests would do.

All three watched him tensely. Then Lalli erupted to his feet.

"For FUCK sake! Are you STUPID?!" the skinny mage shouted, fists on the table, leaning across into Mikkel's space. "She made all of Bornholm sleep just playing around! Send her to school before she KILLS SOMEBODY!"

Reynir was the first to break the stunned silence.

"He's right. You could be nicer about it, Lalli, but you're right."

"Wait," Mikkel said as Emil patted Lalli on the back and gently pulled him back into his seat, "She put the WHOLE ISLAND to sleep?"

"Yes," Reynir answered in a voice that immediately made Mikkel ashamed of his burgeoning paternal pride, "including me, at least three other mages, a farmer who fell off her horse and broke her arm, and six fishermen who would have been drowned by the tide in another fifteen minutes if Sigrun hadn't broken the spell."

Mikkel put up his hands in surrender, which caused his huge belly to press against the table and almost squeezed Reynir off the bench.

"All right. We'll come check out this Academy of yours. If..."

He looked at Lalli, who was still giving him a champion-level death glare.

"...IF the most powerful mage in the world comes with us."

He looked out the window at where little Sigrun appeared to be attempting to ride one of the dogs with the enthusiastic help of Mikkel's youngest son.

"AND he brings his daughter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could go wrong?


	5. A Mountain

YEAR 103

Neglected, forgotten on the mountaintop, a body that had once housed a man took its final breath, slumped over, and gave its substance back to the earth.

 

YEAR 102

"Come ONNN! I wanna go up the mountainnnn!"

"No, little one," the old man told his grandson. "This mountain isn't for climbing."

"Why not?!" the boy demanded.

"Because," the man replied, looking at the owl- and squirrel-shaped brands on the rocks, "he doesn't like it."

 

YEAR 100

The rat luonto crawled painfully back to his human. 

"Do me a favor, huh?" He whispered as he cuddled up to her neck while she slept.

"Don't pick a fight with a god again."

 

"What?!" Sergeant Viitanen snapped. "We're not going to be scared off by a bunch of critters--"

_I SAID GO AWAY!_

The owl swooped at the Sergeant's head, clawed at her hair, and flew back to the boulder carrying...something.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Captain Armo Jarvi shouted, but it was too late. Sergeant Viitanen had already sent a bullet through the owl. It pinged off the rock and buried itself in an oak tree.

The owl, uninjured, fluffed his feathers.

The oak tree groaned and the ground started to shake.

 

Day Scout Alarik Ylitalo eyed the assembly of animals nervously. A dozen birds, including two hawks and an owl, a whole extended family of mice, and at least thirty squirrels with more arriving all the time. All of them perched on a ten-foot boulder at the foot of the mountain. Staring.

The owl spoke.

_GO AWAY._

"Go away," Alarik repeated.

 

YEAR 96

His friends, the trees, cried out with their thirst. Their roots in his skin, reaching down toward his core, shriveled and retracted.

_Vellamo, mother of all waters, I changed my mind. I am sorry. Please spare my friends._

"I am here, little brother."

He felt her kiss on his rocky flanks.

It rained.

 

YEAR 94

He was the mountain and the mountain was him. His human body sat atop it, but his consciousness dwelt in the stone and the life-giving soil. And, far, far below, the fire.

 

YEAR 93

"Why are you doing this, young one?"

_Fuck you, bitch. Fuck all of you. You abandoned her._

"Very well. I will be here when you change your mind."

 

YEAR 91

_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!! COME GET ME!! I'M RIGHT HERE!!! COME! GET!! MEEE!!!!_

If he thought through the implications of his previously unknown, involuntary troll-deterring effect, it would destroy him. So he didn't.

 

YEAR 90

He got off the ship and walked. And walked. And walked to the base of a mountain and started climbing.

_I'm coming, Tuuri. I'm coming to join you. I'm sorry I was a coward. I'm coming, little squirrel._

The view from the mountain's peak was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. This was a good place to die.

It took him almost a month to realize the trolls and beasts he'd expected to reunite him with his sister were avoiding him.

 

"I'm so sorry, Onni."

"Me too."

"So sorry."

"Tell us if you need anything."

_Fuck you, Torbjorn. Fuck you, Siv. Fuck you, Taru. Fuck you, Lalli. And fuck you most of all, you lying, incompetent, Icelandic shit-for-brains._

__

_Do not speak to me._

__

_Do not touch me._

__

_Get me a ship home before I kill you._

 

"Onni. I'm sorry. Someone should have told you. Don't be sad! We'll see each other again someday. You know that."

He fell out of the sky and part of him never stopped falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just re-read ARTD for the first time in years and realized the surname I picked off a list for Sergeant Shoot-Everything was one letter off from Hannu's, so now they're the same. The Sarge is hereby retconned as Hannu's great-granddaughter.
> 
> Also, when I wrote this, I thought it was canon that Tuuri's luonto was a squirrel.


	6. A-Sailing We Go

Tuuri Madsen-Eide peered over the railing at the prow of the ship. Fresh salt air buffetted her face and made her long, strawberry blonde hair stream out behind her. She'd never moved so fast in her life. 

This was SO COOL!

Tuuri stepped onto the lowest of the railing's four bars, then climbed to the second, which brought her waist to the level of the top bar. Leaning out and over, she gazed at the water rushing by below her.

"Hey. Don't do that."

Tuuri immediately pulled her upper body back above the deck.

"Do what, Daddy?" she asked innocently.

"Anything that might make you fall in," Mikkel responded, "because then I'd have to jump in and save you, and you know what happens when I go swimming."

Tuuri giggled. The month before, Mikkel had taken Tuuri and her brothers, Marty and Mike, swimming in a pond on one of the surrounding farms. The kids had had a great time, but Mikkel had sunk up to his waist in mud, gotten water up his nose and stuck in both ears, then been attacked by a goose. He kept finding bits of dried gunk in his beard for a week.

"One moment," Mikkel said, then experimentally lifted his daughter by the back of her dress and hefted her a few times. Satisfied, he dangled her in front of the railing again so she could grab on. 

"All right. Lean over as far as you want, but only if I'm holding you. Understand?"

Tuuri nodded, then laughed with joy at the sensation of zooming above the waves. Her laughter turned to shrieks of glee when her Daddy picked her up again and held her parallel to the deck so it was like she was flying.

"I LOVE this!" she shouted.

 

"I HATE this!" Sigrun Vasterstrom cried.

Lalli finished puking over the railing at the ship's stern, rinsed his mouth out with the bottle of water Emil had brought him, and lay down on the deck next to Sigrun.

"Me too," he groaned.

"It hurts," Sigrun whined.

Lalli dragged himself closer so he could stroke her forehead.

"We'll be there soon," the tiny mage told the even tinier child. "It stops when you're back on land. Lie down. Look at the horizon."

Sigrun tried it. Her guts settled. But then she remembered, sprang to her feet, and started tugging frantically on Lalli's arm.

"Lalli-dad! Hide! The captain said we have to throw our stinky things overboard! And Emil-dad is coming back!"

"MrrrrrrRRRRRGHHH! So!?"

Sigrun wept as she wiped a bit of vomit off Lalli's jacket and held it up to his nose.

"YOU'RE STINKY!"

 

"You won't throw Lalli-dad in the water? Even if the captain says to?"

"Never," Emil assured his daughter for the fifth time. "The captain meant trash and old food, not people. Even if she meant people, I wouldn't do it. Especially not to Lalli or you because I love you both. I would never hurt either of you or let anyone else hurt you. Okay?"

"Mmkay," Sigrun murmured as she nestled back in his arms. "Love you too."

Emil's heart melted.

Thirty seconds later, she puked all over his lap.


	7. A Farm Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I forgot someone.

"SHE'S HAVING THEM!" twelve-year-old Martin Madsen-Eide yelled as he sprinted across the farm.

"SHE'S HAVING THEM! SHE'S HAVING THEM!" seven-year-old Michael Madsen-Eide shouted as he chased after his brother.

All five of the Madsen-Eide family's dogs joined the charge, barking and yipping happily. 

Maja Madsen heard the racket, glanced out the window at the coming stampede, and facepalmed.

Look after the boys while I'm away, Mikkel said. It'll be easy, he said. 

"SHE'S HAVING THEM! SHE'S HAVING THEM! SHE'S HAVING THEM!" little Mike shrieked, laughing and jumping up and down, which made his bright red curls bounce crazily. That was going to be a real pain to comb out later.

"Who's having what?!" Maja snapped.

"I DON'T KNOW!" the child yelled, still leaping around like a lunatic.

Maja was going to kill Mikkel, or at least give him a hard smack upside the head.

Marty burst in, excited but worried.

"Aunt Maja! Kitty IV is having her kittens!"

 

'Kitty' was an honored title on the Madsen-Eide farm, bestowed at the age of one year upon the dominant member of a previous Kitty's first litter.

Kitty IV had chosen the hayloft to give birth in. Not the easiest place for Kitty I to get to on her old, arthritic legs, but she managed it. This was her dynasty and nothing as silly as achy joints would keep her from attending every birth.

Kitty IV was having a hard time. Kitty I groomed her great-granddaughter's head as she cried out in pain and fear.

After a while, the humans arrived. Not the big human, who usually attended every birth too. Kitty I hadn't been able to find him. His two male offspring were there, though: The yellow-haired adolescent and the small, noisy, red one. There was also a large female who looked and smelled like the big one's litter-mate. She did stuff to Kitty IV, causing her more pain. Kitty I fluffed up and growled at them, but didn't strike because her great-granddaughter seemed to trust them.

Finally, the kittens started to come.

A boy, black and white. Big and healthy.

A boy, black. Breathing but sickly. Probably wouldn't live long.

A girl, calico. Dead.

A girl, black and white. Dead.

A girl, calico, tiny. Runt. Kitty I thought she was dead too, but then she twitched. 

Kitty I quickly washed the birth fluids off the tiny one and encouraged her to breathe. 

Knead, knead. Lick, lick, lick, knead. Bite.

LIVE, DAMN IT.

"That one's got the heart!" the kitten human with the red hair exclaimed.

The tiny calico with the heart shape on her forehead gasped, coughed, and squeaked. Her great-great grandmother quickly deposited her at her mother's flank to nurse beside her brothers.

"I think we just met Kitty V," said the adolescent human with the yellow hair.

"We can't call him that yet," the red-haired one reminded his brother.

"I meant the little one."

"No way!"

They bickered as the large female led them both away.

By the time they were back in their house, most of the local Kitty clan had arrived. Kitty III and his two living sons were first up the ladder. Kitty II was dead, but her two daughters and son were next. Kitty IV's mate, Magnus XXI, leapt up, greeted Kitty IV, and immediately began grooming his kittens.

Kitty I let a pair of scrawny distant cousins take the two dead kittens, but swatted her own son away from the weak little male and the calico runt.

Then HE showed up. HE sauntered up the ladder like he owned the place. 

HE was an 18 lb orange tom. One of Kitty IV's previous mates. He slunk right up to her, ignoring Magnus XXI, and yanked the big black and white kitten from her teat.

Kitty I had been born in the Silent World. She was the sole survivor among her siblings. She'd warned of ghosts, fought trolls, and defended herself against an infected human before she was six months old, and she did not need this shit.

The big orange tom was so busy bullying the newborns, he was completely surprised when an 8 lb missile of claws and teeth struck him at high speed.

Seventeen cats saw Kitty I tackle the intruder. Nine saw them hit the ground after the twelve-foot fall. 

Five minutes later, twenty-one cats saw their matriarch trotting back to the barn, tail held high, and a bit of orange fluff caught in her teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a true story.


	8. A Proving Ground

_Help me. Help us. DIE. I am many. We are one. DIE, WEAK CREATURE! Please help us, human. Please! WE WILL DESTROY YOU..._

Lalli sprang awake. 

It was dark and he was alone on the stern of the ship. Sigrun was at least thirty-five meters away or else he wouldn't have heard that. Yes, there was the blank area near the prow. Emil must have taken her for a walk.

Lalli dashed to the prow, shouting to his husband to take their daughter to the stern as he passed. Emil started to ask what was going on, saw Lalli's expression, picked up little Sigrun, and hightailed it in the opposite direction.

 

Mikkel hadn't planned to sleep on the deck. He'd seated himself in one of the flimsy chairs to watch the sunset, and then his daughter had fallen asleep in his lap and he hadn't wanted to make her move.

Four hours later, he awoke to shouting, roaring, the ship giving a sickening dip, and the entire prow filled with tentacles and flippers climbing up the railing.

 

Lalli let the sea giant climb, then stepped forward and grasped a tentacle in his hand.

Three whales, twelve dolphins. Two mages, both female.

 _STOP!_ he told them.

The tentacle was just starting to retract when someone behind Lalli bellowed, "GO AWAY!"

The giant was flung back fifty meters and landed with a huge splash.

Lalli turned to see Tuuri Madsen-Eide, arms raised, eyes glowing.

Together, they sent the creature to the bottom.

 _Rest now, sisters,_ Lalli told the two dolphin mages, and smiled when he felt them go wherever dolphins go.

He was just about to thank young Tuuri for her help when the wave from the sea giant's fall knocked him off his feet.

 

Mikkel had never been prouder. He'd known his little girl was talented, but hurling a giant a field's length away? HA HA!

OH SHIT THAT'S A WAVE.

A broken chunk of the railing detached, flew back, and struck Mikkel in the forehead.

 

"Oh, wow. That looks really bad!" Emil exclaimed.

Mikkel felt at his forehead. There was a fair amount of blood, but the bones seemed to be in the right place. Still, Emil looked so worried...

Lalli came into view and inspected Mikkel's wound from three inches away, then sat back, glanced at Emil, and smirked.

"Mikkel," Emil announced solemnly, "I hate to tell you this, but you have--"

"FACE CANCER," Mikkel groaned. "Goddammit, you had me going for a minute."

Lalli snickered.

"I'm sorry," Emil said, his expression making it clear that he wasn't sorry at all as he tried and failed to pull Mikkel to his feet, "but--good gods, what do you eat, rocks?!"

Lalli laughed out loud.


	9. A Job Offer

"I am NOT going to work here."

Lalli glared at the petite, white-haired woman across the desk. There was no way he was going to do what she was asking of him. He had a home in Mora. He didn't even like kids (except his own.) Also, the woman's fylgja, a mink that kept dashing around like its tail was on fire, was really getting on his nerves.

Kristin Einarsdottir, President of Iceland, sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. The mink actually held still for two seconds.

"Mr. Hotakainen," she said as she slid her glasses back on, "I am dying. I have approximately six months. Seven or eight if I'm lucky--DON'T tell me!" she added as Lalli opened his mouth. "My point is that when I'm gone, I'd rather not leave an impulsive, headstrong six-year-old with unpredictable, poorly-controlled abilities as the most powerful mage in Iceland. Without proper guidance, it's only a matter of time until she does real harm."

Lalli looked down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap. 

He didn't like to think about it, but when he was very young, he'd done bad things sometimes without meaning to. 

The pot that fell and scalded Mother's legs as she was yelling at him. Onni's fishing boat that sank after he called Lalli "simple." The huge dog that ran at him, barking, then dropped dead at his feet.

Lalli hadn't known what a wagging tail meant.

That was when Grandma had taken him into the wilderness and wouldn't let him go home until he'd learned discipline. 

When he'd returned five months later, he was exhausted, skinny, hollow-eyed, silent, and the most skillful seven-year-old mage in Finland. Ever since, when magic came to him by accident, it was always in the form of senses or visions. Never anything that affected the physical world.

Staring at his hands in President Einarsdottir's office, Lalli muttered, "Reynir knows what he's doing."

"Indeed he does," the President replied. "Mr. Arnason is an excellent teacher. He has also worked hard to develop his talent for protective magic, and his prophetic dreams have proven useful more than once. But when it comes to sheer strength, he is average at best. If Miss Madsen-Eide starts playing around with dangerous spells again, or has a subconscious urge to do something terrible, he won't be able to stop her."

"And you think I can?"

"I do. And I know your daughter can."

Lalli's head jerked up and his gaze snapped to President Einarsdottir's.

"WHAT do you know about Sigrun?!" 

The President gave him a look he didn't understand.

"Not as much as you do, I'm sure. But I can promise you one thing: As long as your daughter is in my country, she is under my protection, plus that of the two thousand one hundred twenty-three trained mages in Iceland's military. She may make us uncomfortable, but she is safer here than anywhere else." 

Lalli narrowed his eyes.

"It's her you really want."

President Einarsdottir smiled slightly and leaned forward.

"I want you both, Mr. Hotakainen. I believe it will take both of you to help the greatest mage who will ever live save the world instead of destroying it."

She stood up.

"There's no need to make a decision immediately. I'm sure you'll want to discuss this with your husband. Now, would you mind letting my fylgja go? I'd rather not have to hurt your luonto."

Lalli stared blankly at her for a moment. Then he gave a start and the lynx lifted his paw off the mink, which immediately started zooming around the room again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am going to actually describe the mage school eventually. That's where everyone else is right now except little Sigrun, whose presence would be a massive disruption, and Emil, who's watching her. They're probably wandering around Reykjavik doing touristy shit. I just haven't figured out how to have the school NOT be Diet Hogwarts yet, so we get Lalli's job offer first.


	10. A Set of First Impressions

When Mikkel thought of the word 'school,' he pictured a large building with one or more rooms full of children, and teachers standing at the front, talking or writing stuff on a giant slate. An 'academy' was a fancy school that trained older children and adolescents to be skalds.

The Academy of Seidur looked more like a mid-sized village, if anyone was crazy enough to build a village in such an obnoxiously inaccessable place. The path from the nearest carriage-worthy road was very long and very steep. At home, Mikkel's girth reflected his success as a farmer and nurse/apothecary, but if he was going to have to do that hike every time he visited his daughter at school, maybe it was time to lose some weight.

"So where's the school?" he asked Reynir once he'd finally caught his breath. 

Reynir spread his arms, beaming. "Everywhere! This whole thing is the school. Every building within a kilometer. Except those over there," he amended, pointing at a few small cabins in the distance. "That's part of a ranch. And of course the rest of Reykjavik is right on the other side of this hill."

Little Tuuri, whom Mikkel had carried up the second half of the hill and who had immediately jumped off his back and dashed away at the top, came tearing back.

"Daddy, they have a UNICORN!"

 

Reykjavik was everything Emil had imagined and more. It was like Mora times ten. Electricity all the time, cars, trains that went underground. Shops that sold things he'd never seen before. But what he liked best was the way his daughter kept exclaiming at all the new sights, one hand tugging on his and the other pointing to whatever wonder she'd just spotted.

"Emil-dad! Look! It glows! And look over there! Oh, horses! I wanna pet... EEK! DON'T EAT ME, HORSEY! Hahaha! Emil-dad, what's THAT?!"

"That..." Emil searched his mind for the word. "That is...a trolley car."

"Can we go on it? I wanna go on it!"

He returned little Sigrun's excited grin.

"Sure!"

Emil dug in his pocket for Icelandic coins, counted out what he thought was the right amount, and said to the trolley employee in his best Icelandic, "Um...ride...two person...little paper...buy...yes?"

The man responded with something completely incomprehensible.

"Aaagh! I hate this language!" Emil groaned.

"Tickets are 3.50," the trolley man said in perfect Swedish. "And welcome to Iceland, Captain."

Little Sigrun had to drag Emil to a seat to make him stop apologizing and sit down so the trolley car could start.

 

The "unicorn" was an unusually large and grumpy goat named Olaf. He'd been around--and missing a horn--since Reynir first arrived at the Academy twelve years ago. 

Reynir had warned hundreds of people to stay away from Olaf. 

"You'll want to leave that one be. He's a butter. I mean, he butts. No, DON'T pet him! He broke someone's wrist once! Honestly, he's a jerk. Just don't. Please!"

So, when Tuuri Madsen-Eide RODE Olaf up to her Daddy to show him the unicorn was real, Reynir finally had to admit it to himself: This kid scared the hell out of him.


	11. An Admission Interview

Lalli perched on a small stool, hugging his knees and peering over them with glowing, grey-blue eyes.

A few feet away, Tuuri Madsen-Eide glared back, eyes shining violet as she deliberately sprawled back in her chair and took up as much space as she could.

Mikkel and Reynir watched from the next room through a one-way mirror.

Lalli didn't know what to say. He was pretty sure 'This is supposed to be Reynir's job, but he's afraid of you,' wouldn't be helpful, though. Nor would 'You're annoying and nothing like my cousin and I really wish you had a different name.'

Finally, he settled on "Thank you for your help with the sea giant."

Tuuri smiled proudly.

"It was GROSS! And big and yucky and...and BAD! But I KILLED it!"

" _We _killed it," Lalli corrected. "You did very well. You have a talent for battle magic. But don't be arrogant."__

____

"I'm not!"

____

Tuuri folded her arms over her chest with a loud huff and pouted.

____

Lalli waited. A second, two, three...

____

"What's 'arrogant?'" the girl asked.

____

"Too much pride. When you assume you're the best."

____

The child's eyes widened in genuine confusion.

____

"But I AM the best."

____

In the next room, Mikkel flushed in embarassment and silently cursed himself. Reynir pretended not to notice.

____

"The best what?" Lalli asked.

____

"The best MAGE!" she exclaimed, her tone making it clear that he was a moron for asking.

____

"There is no best mage," Lalli informed the girl. "There is a best protector, a most skilled healer, a most accurate prophet, a strongest warrior mage, and a few others like that. None of them is the best at everything, and none of them is you. Not yet."

____

She scowled.

____

"There IS! There's a strongest! With the most best powers!"

____

"There is a most powerful mage at the moment. But he's not the best at everything. It doesn't work that way."

____

Tuuri scowled harder.

____

"How you know it's a BOY?"

____

Lalli sighed.

____

"Because it's me."

____

"Now who's arrogant," Mikkel muttered from the other side of the one-way mirror.

____

"It's not arrogance if it's true," Reynir whispered back.

____

Tuuri's eyes widened. She sat up straighter, then turned and looked right at Mikkel and Reynir through the one-way glass.

____

"IS it true?"

____

Reynir just about fell out of his chair. Seeing through opaque objects was a rare skill that many never mastered even after years of training. He couldn't do it reliably himself.

____

Mikkel didn't quite manage to hide his smirk as he answered his daughter, "Yes, as far as I know, it's true."

____

Tuuri turned back to Lalli, much more interested than before.

____

"Cool! What can you do?"

____

"Lots of stuff," Lalli shrugged. "But we're here to see what YOU can do."

____

"Lots of stuff," the girl shrugged back, doing a near-perfect imitation of Lalli.

____

Lalli rolled his eyes.

____

"Like what?"

____

"Like kill giants," she answered smugly.

____

Mikkel snickered. Tuuri grinned at him over her shoulder. Lalli gave him a look that could make a statue flinch.

____

Reynir stood up. "Mikkel, why don't we go and...um..."

____

"...get out of here before Lalli turns me into a toad? Good idea."

____

Lalli waited until the door closed behind Mikkel and Reynir, then addressed the child again:

____

"Listen, kid. I want to be here even less than you do, so how about you knock off the crap so we can get this over with?"

____

"Knock...off?"

____

Apparently, she wasn't familiar with the expression.

____

"Knock...like on a door?" 

____

She suddenly grinned again, eyes narrowed, as an idea occurred.

____

"I'll knock YOU off that stool!"

____

Lalli grinned back.

____

"Try it."

____

She struck with a simple energy blast first. It bounced off Lalli's invisible shield and hit the wall with a crack.

____

Next, she made a complex motion with her left hand, stared into Lalli's eyes and commanded, _"Sleep."_

____

"Not tired."

____

Visibly frustrated, she tried what had worked so well in her biggest victory to date: Arms raised and a shouted, "GO AWAY!"

____

Lalli actually had to make an effort to block that one. It was crude--not even a real spell--but the force behind it was enormous. 

____

When she jumped up from her chair and physically charged him, bounced off his shield so hard her nose was bloodied, and got right back up, he was impressed.

____

When she started beating on his shield with her fists and screaming, he noted her persistence approvingly, but figured she wasn't very bright.

____

When her fists started making holes, he began to get worried. It was easy enough for him to repair his shield, although he had to finally raise his hands and make a visible effort, but this child could kill most mages, let alone normal people.

____

As if she'd read his thoughts, Tuuri screamed, _"DIE!" ___

____

____

____

The word and the flash of rage behind it bounced off Lalli's palm and struck the one-way mirror, which shattered.

____

____

____

Lalli immediately negated all of the girl's spells, stalked over to her, and slapped her so hard she fell back into her chair. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, she raised a hand to her stinging cheek.

____

____

____

Lalli grabbed her by the front of her dress and hissed in her face, "NEVER say that to another human being! _NEVER!_ Understand?!"

____

____

____

She burst into tears.

____

____

____

Lalli's heart twisted. But someone had to do this.

____

____

____

"Listen to me, Tu...Little T: Other people can say 'Die!' and nothing happens. But you can't. You CAN'T. EVER. Because the person you say it to might really die! Do you understand?"

____

____

____

Still sobbing, she nodded.

____

____

____

"Good," Lalli said as he released her and took a step back. "I'm sorry I hit you."

____

____

____

He turned to look out the window as he tried to calm himself. He was frightened for this child and everyone around her, and terribly guilty over what he'd just done. He'd been trained with slaps and threats, but he knew there was a better way. He'd never struck his own daughter. Then again, Sigrun had never tried to kill him.

____

____

____

So his guard was down when the girl picked up his stool and threw it at him. He barely managed to dodge, then grab it by a leg as it flew past. As he set it on the floor and climbed onto it again, young Tuuri's expression went from surprised to impressed to angry again.

____

____

____

"I hate you!" she spat through her tears. "And don't call me Little T! I'm BIG T!"

____

____

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone is mad, I believe it's unacceptable to hit kids 99.9% of the time. Threats of real harm and physical intimidation aren't OK either except in an emergency and/or if lives are at stake.
> 
> Comments make my day, and every chapter that's ignored makes me sad. As always, I'm not just looking for praise. Constructive criticism is more than welcome.


	12. A Deal

The door to President Kristin Einarsdottir's office burst open, then slammed shut. The President looked up to see a short, skinny form with wild ash blond hair leaning against it, panting. 

She cursed under her breath as nervous voices and footfalls became audible in the corridor outside her office.

"Excuse me, Franz. I have a situation. I'll call you back."

She switched off the radio, folded her hands on her desk, and directed a highly unamused look at her visitor.

"Mr. Hotakainen. If you wish to see me, I have a secretary you may contact--"

"I'll do it," Lalli interrupted. "I'll train her. If you give Emil a job too. And our daughter gets the best tutors in Reykjavik. And we'll need somewhere to live."

President Einarsdottir raised an eyebrow.

"Anything else?"

Lalli thought for a few seconds.

"I guess some money would be good."

The President smiled.

"Please, have a seat."

Lalli padded nearer, glancing back at the door like he expected to be attacked at any moment, sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk, and waited for her to continue.

"Compensation and housing are no issue, and we can certainly offer a position to an expert Cleanser. The only complication is your daughter."

Lalli sprang to his feet, eyes blazing. 

"Mr. Hotakainen, please calm down. Miss Sigrun's condition is obvious to any mage within her area of effect. I'm sure you can see how the Silencer's presence at the Academy of Seidur would be disruptive, to put it mildly."

Lalli stared at her, uncomprehending.

President Einarsdottir blinked in surprise.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget how cut off you are in Finland. Even more so in Sweden."

Lalli growled.

The President growled back, her eyes flashing crimson as her mink fylgja, which was calmly draped over her shoulders this time, bared its needle-sharp teeth.

Lalli shut up and sat down.

"To keep the world in balance, everything must have its opposite," said the President. "The winter for the summer. The water for the fire. The darkness for the light. And the Silencer f--"

Her voice caught. She cleared her throat, started to speak again, and was overcome by a coughing fit. 

Lalli flinched and momentarily put a hand to his own chest before he blocked the sensation.

"Excuse me," she finally rasped. "As I...as I was saying, the Silencer is the universe's response to the mages. She or he is a person who absorbs magic within a certain radius from his or her body. Within that radius, magic effectively does not exist."

Lalli had figured out that much on his own. He just hadn't known there was a name for it.

He leaned forward, wide-eyed.

"There are others like Sigrun?"

"There were. As far as we know, no two Silencers have ever been alive at the same time. In fact, when I was young, there was a decades-long span with none at all."

Lalli knew she was wrong about that last part. He knew it without knowing why, then clapped his hands over his ears because he was about to find out and it was going to hurt.

He heard--no, FELT--a sharp crack and was blinded for an instant by a searing flash.

_A tan-skinned little boy with coal-black eyes staring into space_

_A tan-skinned little girl angry that her spells weren't working_

_An adolescent boy with black eyes running joyfully through a lush forest whose enormous trees Lalli didn't recognize_

_A crowd with weapons in their hands and murder in their hearts chasing a black-eyed man_

_A bullet piercing the man's neck_

CRACK! Lalli was back in the President's office and tears were pouring down his face.

URGH. Of course that shit would happen NOW.

Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes.

"Th-there was one. When you were young. He was in...C..Chi...a long pointy country far away. His people...the mages killed him."

President Einarsdottir was peering at him intently.

"Do you do that often?"

"No."

"Can you do it deliberately?"

"No."

"How old was the Silencer when he was killed?"

Lalli clutched his throbbing head. "I don't know!" he snapped. "20? 25? He was grown but still young."

The President reached across her desk and placed her hand on his forehead. He started to jerk back, but the pain was already lessening. In seconds, it had trickled away, leaving a warm tingling behind. 

For some reason, that really irritated him.

"One last thing," the old woman said gently. "How big was his area of effect?"

"How the hell would I know?!" Lalli half-yelled, which made his head pulse with pain again. 

Then, through the burning white behind his eyelids, he caught a glimpse of the crowd chasing the black-eyed man, some of them hurling spells, all of which stopped a certain distance behind him.

"Maybe ten meters?" he guessed.

The President stood up.

"Thank you, Mr. Hotakainen. You have been very helpful. Would you like a ride back to the school in my car?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Mrrr."

He stalked toward the door.

At the last moment, he turned. 

"Lady, you don't have six months. You don't even have six weeks. I'm sorry. I can't cure you. But if you want, I can help you stay alert and dull your pain while you get your shit together."

President Einarsdottir gave him a tight smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Hotakainen, but my shit is already together."

The wind dried the tears off Lalli's face as he ran the nine miles back to the Academy.

Six hours later, as she slept, Kristin Einarsdottir's lung cancer breached the wall of her aorta. The next thing she knew was her long-dead husband, young again, helping her up onto a verdant meadow under a gorgeous summer sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kristin Einarsdottir  
> 24-103  
> Healer, Leader, Champion of the Icelandic People, and Beloved Wife and Mother
> 
>  
> 
> We're going to have a time jump now.


	13. A Few Moments, Part 1

YEAR 104

Mikkel paced up and down outside the pub. How had he let Malthe talk him into this?

He checked his pocketwatch. Five minutes.

He felt at his hair and beard. Still neatly braided, but as Mette had admonished several times as he reached for her handiwork, they wouldn't stay that way if he kept fiddling with them.

Sigrun had been dead for six years. Little Tuuri was off at mage school and the boys could take care of themselves for an evening. Why shouldn't Mikkel try dating again? Other than the fact that he was pushing fifty, had never been handsome, and his chest was so hairy he might as well braid that too...

He straightened his jacket for the dozenth time and noticed his reflection in the pub's shiny window. Crap, there was cat hair on his pants! He tried to pick it off without being obvious. Damn cats! How had they even gotten--

"Mikkel?"

He spun around. A beautiful woman was looking up at him. Her hair was long and brown with streaks of grey, her face round and pale except for her rosy cheeks and lips, smooth but for a few laugh lines around her mouth and friendly hazel eyes. 

Mikkel immediately straightened up and put on his best imperturbable look. If he could outsmart ghosts, set broken bones, and run one of the most successful farms on Bornholm as a single father of three, he could do this.

"Er. Yes. Sofie?"

Her smile was dazzling.

"Yep, that's me!"

She hooked her arm through his.

"Shall we go inside?"

Mikkel held the door open for Sofie, enjoying the view as she walked in ahead of him. She had quite a nice figure--strong and curvy--but it was the clump of cat hair stuck to her butt that really made him smile.

 

 

YEAR 105

Dear Anna and Klas, or should I say Mr. and Mrs. Borg!

Sorry I didn't write before! I JUST got back from Sweden for the season and saw your letters. Lalli didn't open them because they were addressed to just me. Anyway:

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!

We all wish the best for you both and wish we could have been there! Thanks for the lovely photo! Anna, your dress is gorgeous! Is that your real hair?! You both look so happy!

Everything's going well here, except the girls got into my supplies again last night. They didn't manage to light anything this time, just spill kerosene all over Siggy's bed and the cat. I was rather proud of Siggy, actually: She admitted it was her idea and she'd asked Tuuri to help her reach the stuff. They both cleaned up without making a fuss.

Lalli is always stressed this time of year when new students and their parents arrive, but he's managed not to have a meltdown in public. He did hiss at a cluster of kids a few days ago, which apparently started a fad, so the usual pre-class hubbub of "Why should we learn Swedish anyway" and "Mr. V looks like a girl" now includes "SSSSSSHHHFPT! KHHHHHH! HSSSSS!!"

Lalli wants to add something, so I'd better leave space. Hope to see you soon!

Love, Emil

 

Congratulations. Good luck.

Lalli

 

DEAR ANNAMOM COGNRARDULASHIONS I DRUW YOU A PICHUR LOVE SIGGY

 

P.S. She says it's a bunny. I have no idea why it's on fire.

Emil

 

 

YEAR 106

"It's just a spirit."

"A spirit with its own weather system? And earthquakes?"

"And won't let anyone set foot in an area 20 km across? That's one hell of a spirit."

"Fine, some kind of local god, then."

"Another round, gentlemen?"

"Sure, it's my turn. Hey, barkeep, what do you know about the haunted mountain?"

"Enough to stay the hell away. And not let you army guys slide on credit. Pay up."

"Aww..."

"Guys, I'm telling you, it's a mage. He went nuts when his daughter died--"

"I heard it was his wife."

"Whatever. The point is, my mom SAW him. He walked right through the village, ignored everybody like they weren't there, climbed the mountain, and never came back. A few weeks later, all the weird stuff started."

"Your mom sees a lot of things."

"Shut up! She was totally sober that time!"

"But if it's a person, what's he been living on for 16 years? Even mages need to eat."

"Yeah, and why haven't the trolls gotten him? Whatever's up there, it's not human."

"Like I said. A god."

"Oh, for the love of--are you both high? It is NOT a GOD. It's some crazy-ass mage who probably died a month after he went up there and a bunch of exaggerated rumors!"

"Exactly. Where do you think gods come from?"


	14. A Few Moments, Part 2

YEAR 107

Kitty I and Slayer, the 18-lb orange bully-turned-leader, sealed the peace treaty with a thorough mutual sniff and a few slow blinks.

From now on, their clans would tolerate each other's presence in their territories. Interbreeding would also be allowed. Kitty I was too old for that mess of a bother, but her human insisted on pair-bonding with Slayer's human, and one of her grandsons had his eye on Slayer's daughter, so peace was in everyone's interest.

Forty-seven cats bore witness. Twenty-nine were still watching ten minutes later when Sofie emerged onto the porch of the Madsen-Eide farmhouse in her nightgown and swooped Slayer up in her arms.

"Oh my GOODNESS! Did you follow me all the way from home, you sweet boy? Such a darling! Come inside where it's warm! Mikkel, look who came all this way to see us!"

Slayer, squashed against Sofie's ample bosom, gave a resigned grumble.

Both humans chuckled and Kitty I's big human gave her a wink as he closed the door.

 

YEAR 108

Katla Sigmundsdottir woke when she hit the floor. Again. This was getting really annoying, not to mention dangerous.

"Damn it, Reynir," she groaned as she hauled her swollen, aching body back onto the bed. "You KICKED m--"

She stopped short at the sight of her husband clutching the blanket like he'd spin into the abyss if he let go. Green light leaked from behind his closed eyelids as he gasped and murmured.

"Light and void together. He can't be alone. A flock with three leaders. They have forgotten us."

Katla quickly grabbed a pad of paper and a pen out of the clutter on her nightstand.

Reynir thrashed and his eyes slowly opened to reveal a sea of green glow.

"They're coming! It's coming! Void...dark...HURRY! PLEASE!"

Katla wasn't a mage, but she and Reynir were equal partners. They had agreed years ago that Katla would record without interrupting when Reynir talked in his sleep, but she couldn't stand seeing him in distress like this. 

"Reynir! REYNIR! It's okay! Baby, you're safe! Come back to me!"

Reynir stared blankly.

"She will end us all."

Then he gasped and his eyes snapped into focus.

"AAHH! Sorry! I didn't mean HER!"

Reynir rested a trembling hand on Katla's bulging belly.

Katla shut him up with a kiss.

"I know, silly," she said as she wrapped her arms around him. "It's okay. But I've told you, love--it's a boy."

 

YEAR 110

Four pairs of limbs wedded to a skeletal equine body plodded across the ocean floor.

This was slow, but far better than nine decades of waiting.

A few souls had escaped during the journey. Some set free by mages of the land or sea, and even a few who found the strength to flee on their own. 

But far more had joined. Hundreds had been drawn by the promise of a purpose, a second chance at an honorable death, or just a break in the monotony.

After nearly twenty years underwater, a dozen souls on four pairs of limbs began the climb, up and up toward the light and the shore of Iceland, while a thousand more followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sleipnope may have missed the boat, but no self-respecting evil horse...ghost...thing would let that stop them! He/she/it really needs a better name, though.
> 
> Thanks to TheD3m0nPriest for suggesting Katla's surname.


	15. An Adolescent Social Encounter

YEAR 111

Thirteen-year-old Sigrun Vasterstrom trudged up the path toward the girls' dorms. Lalli-dad had asked her to deliver a message, but she was pretty sure he and Emil-dad just wanted to get rid of her for a while. Which was fair enough, since they hadn't seen each other in months. She wished they'd just ask her to leave instead of lying, though; especially when the lie sent her onto school grounds.

The mages hated her, so she hated them back.

Oh, they weren't outright mean anymore. Mostly. No one actually tried to hurt her. Not since two years ago, when those three idiots were no longer satisfied with hurling mere insults and had added rocks. One had cut her head open badly enough to need stitches. 

All three bullies had had horrible nightmares about a bloodthirsty lynx ripping them apart until they apologized.

A few days later, Emil-dad had taken her to Sweden for the summer. Those months were among the happiest in her life. New places. Flames. Explosions. Learning what all those mysterious tools she'd seen all her life but never been allowed to touch were for. Holding a flamethrower and watching everything disintegrate before her. And, best of all, to the Cleansers, she was just little Siggy, the Captain's clever, pretty daughter, not some freak who screwed up their powers and caused them pain just by existing.

When she'd returned, the bullying didn't resume, but no one was any more interested in being her friend than before. Why would they be? It was possible to build up a tolerance to the sensory effects--Lalli-dad barely felt a twinge anymore--but for most students at the Academy of Seidur, it simply wasn't worth it. 

Siggy broke out of her reverie when she saw the person she was looking for seated on a boulder about 15 feet above the forest path. Relieved that she wouldn't have to face most of the mages after all, she approached the one who was sometimes her friend, sometimes not, but would always be family. Their bond wasn't from blood, but through their parents, their namesakes, and their shared birthday. 

"Hey, Big T."

"Hey, Sigarette."

Siggy rolled her big black eyes.

"Why do you call me that? I don't even smoke."

"No," Tuuri Madsen-Eide replied after a drag from her own cigarette, "but you're little, skinny, pale, black at the top, and bad for my health."

Siggy had to admit that was fairly accurate.

"And yet," she said, climbing up on Big T's boulder and seating herself beside the much larger girl, "none of you mages can smoke me." 

Big T snorted. "I could throw you off this rock with one hand."

Siggy raised a thin, refined eyebrow. "And I could tell Mr. Arnason you're out here smoking."

Big T opened her wide, thin-lipped mouth and exhaled right in Siggy's face, making her eyes water. 

"Go ahead. He smokes too. We clean our lungs out every night. Basic healing spell. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Siggy waved her small hand in front of her nose. 

" _I_ can't clean _my_ lungs out, so would you kindly not do that!? Lalli-dad says to meet him on the hill at sundown."

She paused for a moment, looking at Big T's small, violet eyes, which were gazing into the distance, toward Siggy's home a few kilometers down the hill, and beyond, Reykjavik.

"And, um, just so you know: He's seen the way you and Sven keep disappearing at the same time and showing up later with hickeys."

Big T tensed and glared at her, smoke billowing from her large nose. Siggy forged on anyway as if she wasn't nervous at all.

"You might want to be more subtle about it before someone tells your dad."

For a moment, Siggy thought Big T really was going to throw her off the rock. Instead, she laughed. 

"Daddy knows I can take care of myself. Marty's the one who would be an ass about it."

She lowered her voice and put on a dopey expression. "'Sure, my BABY sister can kill giants, but gods forbid she have a BOYFRIEND!'"

Siggy giggled. "And Mike would try to steal Sven for himself!"

Big T stubbed out her cigarette and smirked. "Nah, he likes pretty boys. Better keep an eye on the pyro if they ever meet!"

Siggy gasped. "Wha--EWW! Emil-dad would NEVER...HEY!"

Big T jumped off the rock and dashed away, laughing. 

Siggy scrambled down, misjudged the last step, fell on her hands and knees, then ran after Big T, shouting that Emil-dad set fires for his JOB! And he was HANDSOME, not PRETTY! And he was married and he wouldn't want your stupid brother anyway because he's 15 and that's GROSS!

Big T wasn't exactly built for running, but thanks to her head start and longer legs, she managed to outdistance the petite girl, get out of her area of effect, and vanish just after shouting, "Say hi to PYRO-DAD, Sigarette!"

"You are such a JERK!" Siggy shrieked into the emptiness.

She scuffed her toes in the dirt. Why couldn't SHE be the big magical prodigy everyone thought was so great? She'd handle it a lot better than that ugly bitch!

She was immediately ashamed of the thought. Tuuri Madsen-Eide's behavior was sometimes ugly, but Siggy had been thinking of the other girl's homely face. It wasn't Big T's fault she wasn't pretty. 

She'd made it just a few steps back down the path toward home when she heard hooves clopping behind her.

It was Mr. Arnason. He managed not to show any discomfort as he reigned in his horse beside her.

"Hello, Miss Sigrun," he smiled. "Have you seen Miss Tuuri lately?"

Then he sniffed, made a face, and looked down at her suspiciously.

"Have you been smoking?"

"No! I mean yes. I mean, I saw her two minutes ago and it was her smoking, not me! She ran off over there and went invisible," Siggy told him, pointing.

Mr. Arnason smiled again and thanked her, then turned his horse and cantered away. Thirty seconds later, she heard, "Young lady, that is a DISGUSTING habit! You give me those RIGHT NOW!"

Siggy snickered all the way back to the Hotakainen-Vasterstrom house, where she found both of her dads seated a little too innocently on the sofa, carefully not looking at each other, and sporting fresh hickeys of their own.


	16. A Lesson And a Warning

Tuuri Madsen-Eide landed butt-first in the mud. 

"Do I have your attention now?" Lalli asked.

Big T sat up with a squelching, sucking sound. 

"Yes," she said, putting on a contrite expression as she crawled back onto the wooden planks in her mentor's haven. "Sorry. I was just thinking about--FREEZE!"

She grinned triumphantly as the spell hit Lalli before he could react. He shook it off almost immediately, but a few ice crystals remained in his long grey hair and neatly trimmed goatee.

"Good," he said as if nothing had happened. "Show me your father."

Big T conjured an image of her Daddy: His tall, strong, fat body; wavy, grey/blond hair that had retreated to the sides and back of his head; big, bushy beard; and calm, intelligent blue eyes.

"Good," Lalli said again. "What is he doing right now?"

"Sleeping. It's ass o'clock in the morning. Or if he's awake, he's probably using the bathroom, and I do NOT want to see that."

Lalli rolled his eyes.

"He's doing neither. I checked."

Unlike Mr. A's prophetic dreams, which were frequent but cryptic, or Lalli's rare and painful visions of the past, Big T had a fair amount of control over her talent for farseeing. It wasn't an unusual ability--roughly half of Norwegian and a large minority of Finnish and Icelandic mages eventually learned to do it at least a little--but she was the youngest farseer anyone could remember. Even Lalli hadn't figured it out until his twenties.

Big T closed her eyes and concentrated on the Madsen-Eide farmhouse. She pictured each room, mentally walking through them all. Daddy's girlfriend, Sophie, was asleep in their bed. When they'd first met, Big T had made it very clear to Sophie that she would never replace her mother, and if she hurt Daddy, Big T would kill her. Once that was out of the way, they'd gotten along pretty well. Sophie was a nerd and could talk your head off about books, but she was also funny, a great cook, and an accomplished horsewoman who had taught Big T and her brothers to ride. 

Mike was asleep too in his room. She followed the hallway to the guest room, where Aunt Mette and Uncle Johan were...EW! 

Her startlement brought her back to Lalli's haven.

"You're doing fine," her mentor told her. "Try again. Find your father."

Big T quickly averted her gaze from the guest room and widened her search. Where the hell was Daddy?

Ah. There. Under the back deck, where Kitty VIII was giving birth to her first litter.

Big T took hold of the scene as well as she could, then opened her eyes and projected it for Lalli. 

Mikkel could barely fit under the high side of the deck, and the ancient Kitty I could barely walk or see, but they both still attended every birth. They watched and listened, side by side, as Kitty V, the small, black tom, comforted his great-granddaughter while his brother, big, black-and-white Magnus XXII, stood guard. Their sister, Callie, the calico runt, arrived and presented the group with a dead rat almost as big as her.

"Your father is not very creative with naming," Lalli observed.

Big T glared at him.

"It's tradition! And he's not even the one who restarted the Magnus thing. And you could have named Kitty I something more creative yourself. You were there!"

Lalli shrugged.

"I hate cats."

Big T snorted.

"You ARE a cat!"

Lalli shrugged again.

"I hate humans too. Shut up and watch."

She did.

For a first birth, it was pretty easy. Kitty VIII squeezed out a pure white girl, an orange boy, and that was it. A small litter for a small cat, but both seemed healthy. Kitty V, acting leader of the Kitty clan, gently groomed his great-great-grandchildren, swatting the sweet but not-very-bright Magnus XXII away when he got a little too enthusiastic about playing with them. Kitty VIII hungrily dug into Callie's rat as her children nursed.

Big T could see many reflective pairs of eyes watching the scene from the shadows. Kitty I's descendents numbered in the hundreds now, and who wants to miss a royal birth?

Kitty I gave a loud yowl.

Mikkel, startled, started to sit up, banged his head on the underside of the deck, cursed softly, and asked what she wanted.

"MROWW!"

"You want to be by the babies?"

"Meep."

Mikkel picked up Kitty I and gently placed her next to the newborns.

Kitty I gave them a thorough sniff, licked them each a couple of times, lay down, smiled, purred, and died.

Big T felt the ancient feline's heart stop. She saw her spirit leave her body. The transparent image of a much younger cat coalesced above the corpse, gave itself a good shake, and jumped onto Mikkel's shoulder. There, she licked his face, batted at his hair for a few moments, then launched herself in a flying leap upward and disappeared.

Big T was a dog person. She didn't really get cats. Cats were capricious and required patience and quiet, neither of which were her strong points. So she was surprised to find tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"I'm sorry for your loss," Lalli said softly.

Anger immediately filled the void Kitty I had left in Big T's heart.

"Did you KNOW that would happen? You did this to me on PURPOSE, didn't you! DIDN'T YOU! You DICK!"

On his raft, Lalli caught the rage she hadn't meant to send and stowed it away for her to deal with later.

"I suspected," he answered mildly. "I thought you'd want to see it."

She took off, boots squelching in the mud, then splashing in the sea after she exited Lalli's haven. She paused briefly to wash the mud off her clothes, then swam the short distance to her own haven.

Her fylgja was waiting for her. His rusty wingtips brushed her face as he landed on her arm.

"Get ready," he said. "Build your strength. A storm is coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kitty  
> 90-111  
> A Queen Among Blessed Felines


	17. An Interruption

Reynir Arnason added a final flourish to the rune he had drawn on the blackboard, then turned around and smiled.

"This," he told the 16 young people facing him, "is the Rune of Greater Protection. As the foundation of Iceland's magical shield, it's an essential part of what keeps us all safe."

At the back of the room, Sven Eriksson slid a note onto his girlfriend's desk. Big T glanced at Mr. A, who had turned back to the blackboard, then read:

_Like we didn't know that._

She smiled and wrote back:

_Seriously. I hate this class._

"As for my own part in setting up the shield..." Mr. A droned on.

 _Great, now he's bragging,_ Sven wrote. _Ew, look, his fylgja's drooling!_

Sure enough, Mr. A's Icelandic sheepdog fylgja was sound asleep in the front right corner of the classroom, a puddle of drool forming next to her mouth.

"...this one right here. It's the almost the same, but you'll notice I've changed the directional mark in the upper right quadrant..."

_Gross. Hey, watch this..._

Big T smirked at her boyfriend, then stared at the corner in concentration. Slowly, another image began to form behind the dog: a large, reddish-brown bird coalescing out of what appeared to be mist.

Half of the class was watching now. Glances darted around the room between friends, to Big T and back. Those who couldn't see were whispering, "What?" to those who could.

"...some other protective runes such as this one..."

Fully formed, the bird reared back its head to give the sheepdog a good peck on the rump. The moment its beak would have connected, there was a flash and a loud crack. Everyone jumped. The bird screeched and disappeared. Big T hissed in pain and put her hands over her eyes.

Mr. A smiled again.

"...and this one, which specifically protects one's fylgja and returns any aggressive energy to the attacker. I've found it useful several times."

Big T banged her forehead on her desk twice, then left it there, face pressing against the wood and shielded by her arms. The pain was gone, but the embarrassment wasn't. The whole class was laughing. Urgh! 

Sven patted her on the back. "You can't win 'em all!"

"Someone tries that almost every year," Mr. A grinned. "The owner of the marsh harrier got further than most. I'd like to discuss it with her after--"

Just then, there was a screech, a few beeps, and a strange rushing sound like water. Then muffled voices.

Everyone froze and listened, including Mr. A. Then he ran out of the room toward his office, calling, "Stay where you are!"

There was silence for exactly three seconds. Then someone said, "What the crap...?" and the classroom erupted into half a dozen different conversations.


End file.
